


An Alloy Apart

by EmilliaGryphon



Series: Guardians of the Galaxy One Shots [6]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), MCU, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, gotg
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 1, Hurt/Comfort, Marvel Universe, Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, gotg - Freeform, mcu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 01:47:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12223260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilliaGryphon/pseuds/EmilliaGryphon
Summary: A mirror fic of "Built Not Unlike Me." Gamora helps Rocket clean his cybernetics and says some powerful things that Rocket needs to hear.





	An Alloy Apart

“On my home-world Hovat and I would take Kameria to the crystalline pools where I used to go growing up,” Drax smiled flicking another coin into the orange crate. “It is a beautiful place. My own parents would take me there every equinox.” Peter grinned from ear to ear, happy to see Drax the Destroyer in such a delightful mood. “What about you Gamora?” Drax asked, the green assassin looked up. 

“My siblings and I were not permitted to leave Thanos realm except on assignment.” She answered shortly. 

Tell me about it, Rocket found himself agreeing while he pocketed a coin and flung three more into the crate. I didn’t see the damn stars until we broke out of Halfworld. Drax squirmed in his seat and tossed the rest of the coins.

“Hey dude! We gotta get rid of the ones with dirt on em!” Peter reprimanded, “You heard Trav, she wants only pure ones. That was part of the deal.” Drax muttered to himself and picked through the bin to find the blemished coins. Rocket saw Gamora shift her stance, legs crossed and arms right against her sides. Guarded. He concealed a smirk as another wave of cold, shivering pain climbed through him. His tail bristled and he cursed, sorting the last of the coins and tossing them, stepping from the common area. His back ached fiercely, making his muscles move and twist beyond his control. After all this time, he thought those flarkers from Halfworld still had some control over him. Rocket’s squeezed his eyes closed, the pain wracking through him. “What about you?” Drax asked, “what were some of your favorite places growing up?” Anywhere that wasn’t the experimentation rooms. He winced, those white florencent lights coming back to the center of his mind. …and that’s my cue to go. Rocket rolled his eyes and stood.

“Hey Rocket we were gonna go get drinks!” Peter called. The creature’s claws on his foot clenched against the Milano’s grated metal floors in agony. 

“I…I’ll catch up with you later!” He hissed through gritted teeth. 

“Small woodland beast…” Drax’s protest reached his ear, followed shortly by Gamora’s hushed whisper of something. Rocket stumbled to his bunk in the engine room, shutting the door behind him he rummaged through his things. 

“Kurtuckan cybernet…ahh,” a swell of vomit and bile filled his throat whilst his trembling claws reached for a cloth. Gingerly peeling off his suit he sat on a box of explosives he dipped the rag into lukewarm water and bent over, reaching up to the bolts in his metal clavicle and wincing as he felt the water seep into his fur. 

“Subject 89P13,” the words of those scientists, Rocket’s back snapped upward, he cursed, dropping the rag, shaking. Try, try again he reprimanded himself and bent down wincing as his cybernetic panel electrocuted his spine with searing anguish. 

“Ah….fu…fuuck…” he tried again, bringing the rag down against his back. Flecks of dried blood and scab flaked off in painful sloughs. Rocket coughed, trying to expel the hot metal anguish.

“Rocket,” a tentative voice whispered, the creature’s head snapped up, ears flattened. Gamora stood looking at him in the sliver of the doorway. 

“I..s..said I’ll catch up…with you…” he managed, holding his breath as another wave of burning pain overcame him. Needless to say, Gamora took his response as an invitation, striding in and opening her arms, 

“You were sluggish in the fight today. Let me help,” a command rather than a request. Rocket breathed, in and out, too exhausted to protest or even get angy. He watched her take the rag from the floor, dip it and relished in the bitter sweetness of dull pain as the water ran over his metal and scars. 

“Do you have to do this often?” Rocket shrugged, resisting the urge to look behind him where Gamora sat, her presence there conjuring some primal paranoia. The water ran through his torn flesh with a calming rush. The pain from his cybernetics slowly ebbed away with every brush of the cloth.

“E…every so often,” he answered finally. “Groot used to help me with it but…now that he’s little…I…” Rocket swallowed, feeling Gamora’s warm assured hands slowly work the knots in his fur. Maybe it was something about his altered state of mind, or maybe it was the face that this type of gentle touch without pity was so rare but he continued. “I don’t want him to see me like this.” He could hear her nod. 

Gamora’s hand ran down over the main panel in his back letting the water clean through the mess of flesh and metal. 

“Why don’t you want him to see?” Rocket shook his head, another flash of electric shock going through his small body. His claws gripped the edges of the box and he forced the vomit down.

“Because…” he growled through his teeth, “it’s weakness.” Another rush of water relieved him. Gamora’s small laughter sent his ears flat before she replied.

“You are many things Rocket, but you are not weak. I don’t know how you’ve managed to live with this. These cybernetics…they are like mine only lower grade material. And mine hurt a lot.” She explained gingerly. Something in Rocket flicked, this was the first time she’d ever admitted to feeling pain. The water rushed down his back again and she gingerly prodded the edges of where the metal met flesh. “Thanos tortured Nebula and I, replacing any weak parts of our anatomy with ademantium metal.” She pulled back the sleeve of her right arm, exposing the gently inlaid metal. Beautiful almost, Rocket admired from a technician standpoint. 

“And they hurt?” He asked, that metal was top of the line. They ran for thousands on the black market. He looked up at her and shut his mouth. After a moment her face softened. She dipped the rag again and leaned forward, carefully pressing against the metal plates at his collar bone. 

“These parts, they’re made of a black-market reduction of ademantium. Mostly cheap iron and steel with maybe flecks of it here and there.” Rocket nodded, gulping. Gratefully she continued. “To withstand the pain of these…you are anything but weak.” Rocket forced a nod, feeling an odd warmth in his stomach. Gamora’s strong hands ran though his fur and over his scars, deftly navigating the complexities of wrenched tissue, fur, metal, grime and dried blood. No one Rocket had ever met possessed that skill. 

“Thanks.” Gamora leaned over, looking at him with large soft eyes. Not pity. He realized. Understanding. 

“Rocket I too was mangled and tortured like you were. Not in the same way but…if it is any consolation I think you are an excellent companion and the most worthy fighter.” He chuckled.

“You sound like Drax.” She laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder. His teeth gnashed but he clenched the instinct. Allowing her hand to remain. 

“We aren’t them. You aren’t a monster. You are free and you are one of us. If you hurt, we all hurt. Those pieces in your back…they’re apart of you just like how my own enhancements are still apart of me.” But we’re both Guardians, and we are not them. Got it?” He nodded vigorously. Gamora nodded, patted him once and made for the exit.

“Gamora!” The tremble in his voice making his pride waver. In the silence, Rocket’s breath heaved. He gulped, about to do one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Ten times more complicated then creating a bomb. 

“Thank you for this Gamora. It’s…it’s nice to not be the only monster here. I...I appreciate it. I always say there’s no such thing as me, c’ept me but…maybe you’re as close as it gets. Thank you.” He watched her smile in that genuine way she was so regretful to show. 

“You’re welcome Rocket. If you ever need an assistant, for those cybernetics or anything. I’m happy to oblige.” He nodded, pulling his suit back up and smiling. He was perhaps for the first time in a long time, truly happy and not so alone.

“C’mon Gams. I’ll buy you a drink.”


End file.
